Tears cascaded down my four-year-old’s face. Preschool had ended and all Adam wanted to do was get takeout. I informed him we were eating at home, like usual. He stomped his feet on the parking lot asphalt. “Please get in the car,” I said, gritting my teeth. My cheeks reddened. At that moment, I wanted to be anywhere but there, dealing with a tantrum.
In the driver’s seat, I turned to face Adam. “You really want to eat out, and you’re feeling disappointed,” I continued, trying to keep my voice level. Adam nodded, gasping for air between cries. “I’m going to drive home now. Feel your feelings as long as you need to.” The short commute back seemed like a cross country road trip.
Once my hangry preschooler ate lunch, his mood improved. Then Adam told me he’d like to visit the library. “Of course,” I smiled.
At the library, we sat side by side, arranging puzzle pieces on the carpet. Our hands reached for corners and arranged edges. We matched colors and turned pieces until they fit just right. Soon dolphins and jelly fish emerged in an expansive underwater scene.
“All done!” I exclaimed, high-fiving Adam. He beamed, and I took his photograph with our finished creation.
So often, raising kids is like working a puzzle. You intercept challenging behaviors that test your patience. You worry, will my kids ever stop fighting boundaries? Will my efforts to honor their emotions sink in? Nothing works. Then there are moments when everything clicks and your work feels sacred. You feel anchored in your calling. You gain a sense of God’s greater picture.
After Adam and I finished our puzzle, we ordered hot cocoas with whipped cream from the library coffee shop. Sitting at a cafe table, we paged through a picture book.
I think, in our efforts to solve the puzzle, we overcomplicate parenting. What our kids want most isn’t fancy things, rather, it’s our time and attention, and honestly, that’s what I want, too — quality time with people who truly love me. Lately, it’s simple things that make me happy: sitting with my preschooler, reading, and sipping hot cocoa. There’s no place I’d rather be.
Erin Strybis 